I remember the beginning when my fascination with cars started. I was 14 and my brother bought a 1972 Dodge Charger this had to be the early 90s it had some work to be done on it so he didn't drive it for a couple months in that time I would come home and sit in it behind the wheel and the largeness of the car and the old smell of the car and to look out over the hood which was huge, the car was yellow with what had looked like black shockwaves down the side but they had painted them in the wrong direction so they looked more like fish gills. We would tease my brother and would refer to the car as bills gills. My brother ended up selling the car in need of something more dependable for work. But I had already caught the fever that would change my life. My brother ended up moving out of my parents house and he bought a Nissan pickup to drive to work but he would always have projects he would buy and trade, he came across the strange car with a huge back glass it looked like something out of the Jetsons cartoon it was 1966 Barracuda and I ended up talking him into selling it to me so a deal was struck and I would make him payments with my yard mowing money and would mow his for free. 900 dollars in 15 dollar increments for each yard it took a while to get up enough money for the car. My parents would go to my grandmas house for the weekend sometimes and would leave me alone at home so I would drive the car with no tags and me with no license all over the neighborhood. By the time I was old enough to drive and get a real job I had it paid for and was used to driving it.

I've made a lot of poor choices in my life like at the age of 12 I used to go to the little dinner/bar and use their cigarette machine. The owner of the establishment would see me in there but never said anything. At $2.75 a pack in the early 90s was highway robbery. By the time I was 13 I was riding the city bus all over town and started smoking pot. My friend Brandon and I pretty much had the freedom to do what we wanted. We were quite the delinquents, we would go to the mall and take turns acting like we were handicap trying to get people to give us money. We didn't have a care in the world but just to have fun even at others expense. I don't think we were without a conscience one night after going to the mall riding the bus home,we had this guy start talking to us he would've been I think maybe 19 we where 13 and he didn't have any place to sleep and it was cold. So we  took him to my parents house and told my parents he was Brandon's cousin so he ended up staying the night, through the whole night Brandon and I were extremely nervous on who this guy was. He could've been an axe murder for all we knew so neither one of us got any sleep. For the next 3 or 4 days he stayed with us and after the first night we didn't really watch him anymore. I think we still did more harm than good in the world. Our hobbies included buying bulk of paint balls and we would shoot them through our slingshots we would walk down the railroad tracks and bombard the houses with paint all the way to the bus stop and anytime someone would start screaming at us they could never catch us most of the houses where fenced in the back and we would get a head start before they caught us. 

It wasn't always sunshine and happy days growing up my favorite aunt and my two older cousins I adored where living with us off and on because of my uncle who was an abusive alcoholic, Being only 6 or 7 I didn't really understand the whole Dynamics of what was going on I remember one time my mother got a call that my uncle Ronny was beating on my aunt again, My mom was pissed so me my brothers and mom all piled in the car with bats and anything we could find to use as a weapon and luckily for everyone involved we passed my aunt driving on the street I guess this memory sticks in my head even as young as I was, I guess because of all the excitement and my mother who was a very gentle passive person getting so mad. But that was her sister and she would protect her at all cost. I always enjoyed my cousins coming over even if the situation wasn't ideal. I really looked up to them. My cousin Rhonda was beautiful and a very strong person who was very protective person especially of her family I mean being in an house with an abusive alcoholic would make you that way, I remember one time the neighbor kid I angered smashed my hand with a hammer and my nail came of immediately after going in the house showing Rhonda she went to the top floor of her rage level, I remember her talking to the kids mother who looked very concerned for her on self well being and there was language I had never heard before all I could think was how nice it was to have someone care so much for you that they would put themselves in harms way just to protect them but I would've done the same without pause. My cousin Rhonda's life was cut short at the age of 36 and the whole family was crushed but that's another story.

One of my youngest memories was sitting under the porch of a vacant house that was in the large field next to my parent's house. I was talking to another child who lived in my neighborhood, we couldn't have been older then 6. He was a strange kid who cursed and chewed tobacco. Me, being a curious child I asked him for some. At the time I wasn't aware you didn't swallow chew but, rather you spit it out. I ended up getting very ill. To this very day I can't stand to even look at chew, although I smoked for nine years. Chewing tobacco unlike smoking brings back those unpleasant memories to me. I almost wish I had smoked back then. This is because had I done it then, then perhaps I wouldn't have continued such a bad habit in later years. As a child I always had a vast amount of freedom. I got to go pretty much wherever I pleased as long as I could hear my mother yell at dinner time. I also made it a habit to come home when the street lights came on as that meant it was getting late. I didn't fair too well with all this freedom. My brother and I were the terrors of the neighborhood. One day we had the bright idea to throw croquet balls at the neighbor's chimney until the bricks caved into his house. Another time my friend Dave and I tied fishing line to one of his mom's purses and hid in the front yard. We put the purse next to the road and would watch as people got out of their cars to get it. Once they tried to get the purse, we would reel the fishing poll in laughing the whole time watching them chase after it. This usually was followed by the sound of loud cursing of a very unamused adult. Another time in the field next to my house (which belonged to Muller Steel Company) my brother and I decided to dig a huge hole in which we could climb in. After about a week we had the hole dug over our head. Eventually they had a dump truck and a backhoe come out and fill said hole. During the summer time we would be at our worst doing such activities as mentioned above. I believe much of this was due to boredom and the vast amount of freedom instilled upon us.

Sibley rivalry

Being the younger brother has always had its ups and downs mostly downs. like getting handy down cloths being always compared in everything you would do or everything you didn't do. And every time my dad would leave for work 5 days a week. My brother would always feel the need to try and step in his shoes and sometimes that turned to furniture getting broken and countless fist fights but did come in handy when fighting kids my own age being used to fighting my brother who was  four years older. There was an never ending amount of sibling rivalry at our house I could never physically beat my older brother so I would have to find new avenues to piss him off like he would spend weeks meticulously putting model cars together painstaking painting every part and letting them dry and then painting even more detail on each and every piece and buying high dollar metallic spray paint to paint the body. And one day of giving my daily pummeling I decided I would take a can of hair spray and a lighter and made a make shift blow torch melting his master piece down to a blob and not even bothering to take it off his dresser first. This is just one of many stories of mine and and my brothers sibling vengeful rage.   

I believe free writing

I believe I'm a good father sometimes my kids are ornery and I think there all good kids but there really loud and they like to drive me crazy sometimes my sons riding his bike up down the hallway. He loves his daddy he tells the people at the store this is my daddy this isn't your daddy, he looks up to me and I never want to disappoint him I love my family and always want to take care of them. I think this free writing is kind of cray cray but I can type a lot in a short time. We went to the park he fead the ducks he was trying to go six places at once he makes me feel old trying to keep up the sky was blue that day, very hot the pool was closed not sure why because it's still hot. Next time we will have to feed the ducks I like ducks, I'm glad ducks arnt extinct.

I believe

I Believe I'm a good father,

I believe I'm a good person

I believe I'm a good mechanic

I believe I'm kind to animals 

I believe the sky is blue 

I believe the earth is round 

I believe dog fur is itching 

I believe the paint on the wall is pealing 

I believe the good guys lost 

I believe the fight is fixed 

I believe the poor stay poor and the rich get rich 

I believe the paint is red 

I believe the my feet are smelly 

I believe I wait to long to do my homework 

I believe my ten minutes are almost up.

I believe I was wrong 

I believe my wife needs to tell me my times up

I believe this dogs breath stinks 

I believe that this is crazy.